Fisherman
by ChibiMilly
Summary: The life of the Silent Hero is one of balance and patience.
1. Chapter 1

The boat drifted, and he with it, the sport of patience moving into its second hour. His line bobbed slowly, the hook and its bait untouched. Some fish peered, brought in close by the clear silver shine on the thin thread, and tempted closer by the unclaimed meal, but none of them had forfeited their freedom in the lake just yet.

The lack of activity did not leave Lexaeus frustrated, as it may have for some of his colleagues. Rather, it was these moments that he valued most. Here, where the world turned slower, almost stopping, and the constant pattern of Action/Reaction that filled life was gone. Excess thoughts were emptied out, like tipping a cup into a sink, letting the mind and body begin anew. Without this regular emptying of the cup, the mind's focus would be split across hundreds of tasks, decisions, and memories, with a clear goal or focus lost in the sometimes suffocating fog of constant thought.

Fishing, this sport of patience, was his way of meditation, one could say. Lexaeus wanted to always be as closely attuned to himself and his surroundings as possible – as much as one without a heart could manage, that is. In balance, he found focus. His thoughts were sharp and clear, rarely contradicting or going off into tangents as a result of his little hobby.

It's why he said so little. There was no need to speak more often in that balance.

The sport of patience came into its third hour today. Still no fish bit at the lure. Lexaeus simply laid back, closed his eyes, and kept his mind empty. Making space for what the rest of the day would bring. He could feel a small, brief push of wind run across his white shirt. The Organization uniform was left aside for these days- it was too awkward to wear out on the lake.

It ended too soon, as did every day he got to spend on the lake. It could have gone on for 8 hours, and it would still end too soon.

The Freeshooter appeared before him in a black warp, his eye meeting Lexaeus', hanging upside down, a small smirk on his face. Lexaeus blinked once, eyes opening, half-lidded, hands still on the thin rod.

"Sorry to cut you short again, V." Xigbar said, with a small, somewhat apologetic laugh. The Silent Hero never complained, never sighed in frustration, or snorted, furious, for being interrupted. He went along with it as if it was just a natural flow, Lexaeus a pebble being carried onward in a river.

"A meeting, II?" Lexaeus replied, now slowly reeling the lure back in, putting his fishing equipment in a corner of the boat, where it would wait for another free day to be used.

"Yeah. We might have a mission after that, too. How long before you'll be there?"

"A few minutes." Lexaeus said simply. He'd have to return the boat to shore and change back into his coat, but these were details not relevant to the question Xigbar had asked.

"Five'll get you Ten that Axel is at least 10 minutes late again. I'll see you there."

And the Freeshooter warped out.

The fishing equipment neatly stacked now, Lexaeus turned the boat, moving towards shore. Unbothered. A pebble in the river of life.

Once on the shore, he'd let his cup begin to fill again. And he'd empty it later, as he always did. He'd return to balance on the lake, and wait for the fish..


	2. Chapter 2

They all had their own routines, which, for the most part, they all kept to themselves. The Organization was not a social grouping, thrown together to get to know one another better. It had a clear goal, and they were to work together towards regaining their hearts in spite of their sharp differences. And, generally, those in the Organization liked to have some privacy to themselves and their thoughts. It was a way of 'owning' it. It made that time they had alone precious, important, if they were the only ones who knew what they were doing with it.

Most of the group had frames suited for acrobats and gymnasts. Spry and thin, agile, built for speed, blitzes and rushes. This was particularly evident in the case of Axel. Some were just naturally thin-framed, such as Zexion and Vexen, whose interests were somewhat away from that of the physical. Axel kept his shape up simply by the exercise he got on missions, never worrying too much about losing his shape. A very loose method of keeping his body primed for work.

Lexaeus was a completely different matter. Discipline figured heavily into who he was, a silent, massive act of personal gravity. He would do what he had to, because he conditioned himself to make it impossible to ignore the matter. Like exercise.

He worked out daily, making use of his own room to have the privacy to do push-ups, curls, chin-ups, bench pressing, weight lifting, stretches, jump rope, and a wide assortment of other bits that all built up into an extensive work out regimen. He naturally had a tall, wide shouldered frame, but the muscle was all a product of regular work. If he didn't pay attention to his boy, the meat on the bones could go slack, dragging him down. He had to treat his body with respect. It was the only way to get it to perform how he'd need it to when the time came for it.

Discipline, pure and simple. With it, coupled with the balance he silently worked towards every day, decisions were simple. Life had a clear straight path to it.

He had indeed been assigned a mission after the meeting, one which started as early as the next day. Lexaeus would be paired with Saix for it. Normally, the two of them would be reserved for heavy assault missions, especially when working in conjunction, but this one was a matter of investigation. There was apparently a man who had done a considerable amount of research into the matters of the heart, how they functioned, their structure, and their differences from one person to another. Dabbled in how the heart affected the brain as well, the two of them working together, but also just as often at odds with each other.

He had gone on some expedition under the ocean, in a water tight steel lab. A home, suspended in water, where he could write, research, and do whatever he very well felt like, cut off from the rest of society and the regulations they might have imposed.

He hadn't come back yet. Wasn't sure if he was dead or just stopped communicating with others.

Lexaeus simply kept his focus on his routine. Almost done now.

Tomorrow would come soon enough, after all, and it wouldn't do to start distracting himself.


End file.
